264 Days Remembered
by livyroro
Summary: Warnette one shot. Rated M for mature content.


_**A/N: I finished Ignite Me a few days ago and I've already re-read the whole series, I needed to get out some of my feelings for Warnette. Holy Tahereh Mafi they are my life. **_

_**This is rated M for mature content.**_

* * *

Sometimes, in the heat of their love making, it would all come back to her.

264 days in isolation. The first contact she'd had in years, with a boy. Their journey to find others like them. Their fights. Their messy end.

Adam.

She wasn't sure if she would ever stop being in love with him, but she knew that she loved Aaron now, Adam was her past.

She thinks of him now, when Warner rips her shirt off, throws it to the ground and leaves feathery kisses across her collarbone. Juliette bites her tongue to keep Adam's name from slipping out. She scolds herself when she thinks of things other than Aaron in moments like this, though it is a rare occasion it's something she thinks should never happen.

Aaron seems to notice her lack of enthusiasm, as he stops midway through unzippering her shorts. He's still left with all of his clothes on, and normally he's the first one with them gone. She's leaning against his desk breathlessly, giving him an adorably cute – but out of place – confused look.

He's panting like a dog on the hottest summer days, desperately needing water. Juliette is his water, as she is his everything. And he's hers.

"Why did you stop?" She questions, leaning back and adjusting her bra strap, pulling up her halfway unzippered shorts.

The sight of her half naked has Warner's khakis tightening, and he almost curses out loud. "What's wrong, love?" He asks, teeth clamping down on his cheek to keep himself away from her. He tastes blood, but doesn't stop biting in fear of what he might do if unrestrained.

"I'm just…thinking," replies Juliette cryptically. She doesn't want him to know that she still thinks of Adam, even if it's just on a blue moon. After they both took over the Reestablishment, Warner made a move to become closer to both Adam and James. They're acting like brothers now, as much as they can seeing as the majority of their lives were spent either apart or hating each other with passion.

Her relationship with Kent, as Warner still calls him, was always a subject Aaron preferred not to talk about. Juliette, knowing this, tries to lead him away from the real reason of her distraction this night.

"The riots in Sector 31," she adds hastily. "They've got me worried."

Sighing, Aaron sits down on his desk chair, swiveling slightly to face her. He feels his facial muscles contract in concentration, he's normally able to read people very easily but Juliette manages to hide her true emotions from him.

The love and lust he perceives almost bring a smile to his tense expression, but the sadness and hurt bring a frown instead.

"Why are you sad?" He blurts, almost forgetting that he should try to be less obvious about his gift, or when he uses it.

She shifts, sitting completely on his desk, her bra strap falling off one of her shoulders again. She doesn't adjust it as she tries to read his expression. His stone face gives away nothing.

"Why do you think I'm sad?" She asks, knowing very well that her charade won't stay standing for much longer. Warner is like the cannon positioned outside of her castle, constantly shooting and reloading and not stopping until he's broken down all her walls.

"You can't hide anything from me, love," he lies. She's hidden much from him before, and he knows she's hiding something right now.

She sighs. It'll be easier if she tells him straight up, instead of skirting the secret until he finally pins it down, like she knows he will. One of the many things she loves about him is his intelligence, though she doesn't like it when he figures out everything about her with ease.

"I'm thinking about the past," she starts, wanting to see if he'll catch on and let her off easy.

He doesn't. "Juliette," he says softly, "You shouldn't revisit the past, love, it's not healthy."

"It's not really just the past…it's just, it's," she takes a breath, "Adam."

She watches him visibly retract from her. He sinks into his chair, posture lessons as a child failing him. He puts one hand into his tousled blond hair and ruffles it more, letting his eyes wander anywhere but her. It's his biggest fear: She's still in love with him, his _brother_, of anyone on the planet, _his brother._

"It's not what you think, I was just f-feeling bad," she stutters out, concentrating on shaping her mouth to make each word come out correctly. As a result, every word comes out choppy and curt – a perfect clue for Warner to pick up on.

"Feeling…_bad_?" He inquires, "If feeling bad was a new term for still in love with, please enlighten me." He internally stiffens at how he sounds: like he used to, before he knew Juliette, before he loved her. When his mother died he promised himself he'd never speak like that again.

She recoils in hurt, more surprised than anything that he'd talk to her like that. She understands, and doesn't make a big deal out of it like she normally would. She'd feel the same way if he was in love with her sister, if she had a sister.

"I'm not still in love with him, not the way I'm in love with _you_," she narrows her eyes pointedly at his slumping figure, "But I still feel for him. Not romantically, not lustfully, I feel upset about what happened. Okay?"

He lets out a breath. He can sense that she's not lying to him, and he can also sense the spike in pain he just caused. "Okay, I'm sorry, love. But can I ask why you're thinking of him tonight, right _now_?" He makes an indirect reference to his current situation.

She blushes, noticing for the first time. It's her innocence that'll always get Aaron floored. She's been through so much shit, but she still blushes when realising what she's done to her boyfriend of almost a year. What she doesn't realize is that she does this to him almost every time she sees him.

"I don't know. The weather today, reminded me of the day when he was brought into my cell."

Warner flinches. She talks about her time in a cell so casually, like it's something every teenager does, for recreation.

He also shivers. If any little thing, like the weather for God's sake, can make her think of Adam…what does that mean?

He feels chills run from his fingertips to his shoulder when her fingers brush his wrist. "Hey," she says softly. "I'm not in love with him. Okay?"

"I know, sweetheart," he says even softer.

She smiles at his use of her pet name, and is about to say something sweet but his lips crash into hers, his tongue tracing her lips, tasting the honey lip balm she stole from his cabinets. It's been a favorite scent of hers ever since she stole his soap.

The memory of what happened that night spurs him on. He stands up out of his chair, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her against the wall, her butt resting in the corner between the desk and the bookshelf.

He pushes his thigh between her legs, putting his hands on either side of her head. He dips down to kiss her stomach lightly, whispering sweet nothings but to him they're everything. Every word he has ever said to her in lust has been nothing but true.

She throws her head back, almost hitting the wall. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, which is quickly becoming damp with sweat. She doesn't care. They can shower later. Maybe even together.

His fingers waste no time in finding the waistband of her shorts, and one thumb rubs her hip while the other undoes the zipper until it's all the way down. He quickly pulls her shorts and underwear down in one swift movement, sliding them off her ankles and tossing them over his shoulder.

She hurries in pushing his jacket off his shoulders, kissing the skin that's exposed on his shoulders. She slides his t-shirt over his head, commanding him to lift his arms – he happily obliges. He'd do anything for her, especially in the bedroom.

She teases him, fiddling with the button of his pants. He growls, a low, primal sound from deep in his throat. He picks her up by her arms, holding her in the air above him with her arms spread out, like she's flying through the room.

He spins around once, twice, three times and throws her on the plush bed, leaving her in a fit of giggles. He quickly removes his own pants, as they were becoming much too uncomfortable.

She stops giggling as soon as she sees the tent in his boxers. She feels herself turning red again, and wonders why she can't seem to stop blushing tonight.

He lowers himself over her, pushing her flat against the bed in the process.

Without warning, she feels him push into her with two fingers. She lets out a cry, curling her toes and clenching her fists at the sudden wave of pleasure.

"Faster," she pants, "Aaron. Please. Faster," she lets out one word with each thrust of his hand.

He quickly finishes her off, and she moves her hand to his throbbing boxers. "No," he shakes his head, moving her hand away, "I want to be inside of you," he says huskily.

She's a bit surprised by his request, normally they play around a bit first before actually getting it done, but she's not going to stop him if he wants to cut to the chase.

He pulls off his boxers, then her underwear, and quickly unclips her forgotten bra. He likes the way they feel, skin to skin, with nothing in between them.

She grips his shoulders as he pushes into her, licking her dry lips. He leans down to peck a slow kiss on her cheek, moving to her forehead, her chin, and finally her lips.

He begins to thrust faster, and the room is quickly filled with low moans and shouts.

Juliette feels so lost in him, they haven't gone skin to skin in a while; they're usually in a hurry – being the practically-leaders-of-the-world doesn't make a lot of free time – but she welcome the change in pace.

She's so lost in him, so lost in this moment that she doesn't even hear him moaning her name until she's already come.

He sits inside of her for a few minutes more, stroking her hair and whispering her name while she slowly drifts off to sleep in front of his eyes.

And he's thankful, more than ever, that he's one of the two who can touch her.


End file.
